


The Meeting Between Derps

by AvaCelt



Series: EXO Prompt Fills [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-17
Updated: 2013-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-20 12:23:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/887242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaCelt/pseuds/AvaCelt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Tao's forced to meet Kris first, and self-preservation goes out the window.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Meeting Between Derps

_Don’t make friends, Huang. Do that, and you’ll never make it. They never look at the band as a whole- they look at the ones they like. If they like you, they send you the gifts. If they don’t like you, they make up stories about you and spread across the web like flames licking at dry grass. You’re done. Never let anyone in. Self-preservation, little boy, that’s what matters here. That’s what insures survival after the contract’s finished and you’re forced to either go solo, or make your own band._

That was his mentor back when he’d passed the audition with flying colors. So, keeping his words in mind, he sat still on his bed and waited while others in this new “band" did whatever it was they did. He hadn’t seen any of them face-to-face as of yet, but he guessed they were off in groups because- well, they had each other and that was it. But Zitao had his pride and his mentor’s words, so he was quite alright, thank you very much.

His door creaked and he looked up to see his new manager, a man barely into his thirites. 

"You can’t stay cooped up in here forever. Get out and say hello to your new collegues."

Zitao refused to budge and just gave the manager a blank look. He assumed that would be enough for the man to leave him alone, but Zitao was wrong. 

"Not having your bullshit, kid. Whatever they told you back there? Probably right. But for now, the least you can do is say  _hello_."

Tao was stronger, he knew, and faster than this man who grabbed his arm, pulled him off the bed, and dragged him out of his dorm. The den was empty and so was the balcony. Every other member had gone out to enjoy themselves for there were only a few days left till they had to begin promotion as a whole group. The manager cursed underneath his breath and Zitao smirked. He was about to pull away when they heard a door slam downstairs. 

The manager’s eyes lit up and Zitao had an urge to fling the man towards the balcony and get back inside his dorm. But the man would have none of it and dragged him out of the apartment, into the hall, down the stairs, and finally in front of a room that blatantly called itself DANCE ROOM 102. Grunts, curses, and a trendy beat wafted through the doors and abused Zitao’s eardrums. 

The manager nudged him in the shoulder. “Go." 

He prayed to the gods this would end quickly. Shoving the manager away from himself- as gently as he could, of course- he opened the door and came upon a  heaving figure. 

The figure didn’t notice as Zitao closed the door behind him and leaned against it, watching him. He grimaced at every misstep, every lazy turn, every rigid body wave. He had an urge to sit the man down and beat fluidity into his muscles before allowing him to dance again. 

When he attempted a kick as part of the outine, Zitao snapped.

"Keep your shoulders relaxed!" 

The figure stumbled and cursed. He turned to Zitao and looked at him as if he were ab alien dropped from the sky. Zitao probably was, the way he functioned, so he just rolled his eyes and helped the man up. 

"Watch," he clipped.

He flawlessly imitated the same moves the man was performing seconds before- but better. He gawked and Zitao inwardly bloomed with pride. Then he signaled the man beside him and they worked on the routine side-by-side. Many times Zitao stopped as the latter continued, noting the improvements and clucking at the mistakes. 

The stranger got the steps down pat after a few hours, and they collapsed in a heap next to each other.

"Wu-" Heave. “Yi." Heave. “Fan."

"Zitao," he said effortlessly.

Wu Yi Fan took a shaky breath. “Thank you."

"You can start paying me back by buying me a drink," he drawled cutely. The man looked a bit confused. Zitao rolled his eyes. “I didn’t just spend three hours teaching you a SHInee routine without expecting compensation."

The man understood this time around and nodded weakly. 

"I’m part of the maknae-line," he added slyly. 

The man gawked. “W-what? I thought you were older than me…"

"Natural eyebags," he waved dismisevely. “So… coffee?"

"Sure," he nodded. “I could introduce you to the others. We have another member coming in tomorrow. Might as well make it party."

Zitao shrugged. "… Nice to meet you, Wu Yi Fan."

"It’s nice to meet you to, Zitao," he answered warmly.

_Self-preservation, little boy, that’s what matters here. That’s what insures survival after the contract’s finished and you’re forced to either go solo, or make your own band._

"Self preservation be damned," he muttered darkly. Yi Fan gave him a puzzled look, but he simply smiled. “Let’s go back upstairs." The man nodded and they helped each other up.

By the time they were upstairs, there was food and raucous laughter everywhere. Other members waved Yi Fan over, and Yi Fan unknowingly dragged Zitao along. 

By the time the party died down and members retreated back to their dorm, Zitao smiled contently. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to make friends, he thought smirking devilishly. And if he ever did think of going off to make his own band, he’d make a note to convince Yi Fan to come with him.


End file.
